"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked, glancing sideways at Amy.
"What?"
She didn't take her eyes off the man below. The Time Lord. With his boundless energy and frightening intellect - not to mention his magical travelling box - he still held a fascination for her, one that Rory could never match; and yet she had ended up marrying him, the boy next door. The quiet, reliable, safe one. But maybe that was what marriages were for? Safety? Leaving the dangerous ones for... something else.
"Rory?"
Finally, she was looking at him. He realised he hadn't answered her question.
"Oh, it's just that... well, we're supposed to be heading back to Leadworth after our honeymoon in 'Thailand'. Why are we going shopping two years in the future?"
Amy rolled her eyes. "A year and a half, dummy. I want to get the best coming-home presents for everyone - mum, dad, Brian, Mels, everyone - and how can we be sure that what we get them won't be duplicated by anybody else? By finding something that hasn't gone on sale yet. In the January Sales of the future!" She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and started down the steps.
Rory was slow to follow, as usual. "But w-we're coming back in the summer," he muttered. "Nobody else is going to be handing out presents anyway." He headed after Amy, raising his voice. "And aren't we interfering with the web of time or something?"
It was the Doctor who answered. "Not if you're careful," he said, continuing his mad dance. "The secret of avoiding paradox is not to get caught. I've briefed Amy."
I bet you have, thought Rory. And why didn't you brief both of us? Because I'm just the husband.
With a flourish the Doctor threw a switch, and the pitch of the engines changed as the great machine materialised. "Here you are, the fourth of January 2013, 8:52AM. I've put her down in an alley just to the East of Hyde Park - handy for Harrods, on target for Oxford Road, and splendidly situated for the Serpentine." He looked up to see if anyone was going to appreciate his alliteration, but Amy ignored it to focus on the content of his speech rather than the form.
"So - good shops in the Serpentine, are there?"
The Doctor looked slightly put out. "I thought I might feed the ducks while I was waiting."
"Hang on," said Rory. "January the fourth? Shouldn't we be trying to catch the beginning of the sales? I mean, isn't that when you get the best deals?"
"Ah." The Doctor, avoiding his eyes, had the grace to look embarrassed. "I was rather hoping nobody would mention that. Actually I had my sights on last week, but for some reason the old girl decided not to co-operate. Didn't you, dear?" He patted the console fondly, still not looking at the Ponds.
Amy grinned, and grabbed Rory's arm. "No matter - it's good enough for me." She leaned in close, the scent of her doing things to his hindbrain that blotted out most conscious thought as she led him towards the exterior doors. "Come on, handsome. London awaits."
The Doctor, engrossed in fiddling with some apparently-random device on the console, raised a hand in acknowledgement. "No, no, you take Rory. I'm getting an odd reading here, I should probably look into it." The others exchanged knowing smiles and opened the doors.
Beyond, fog swirled: greasy, damp and cloying. The sounds of London were muffled into unintelligibility, adding another dimension to the eerie atmosphere. As they stepped out Amy raised her free arm; her hand dissolved into a vague blur.
She looked at her husband, a half-frown on her face. "They don't still have pea-soupers in London, do they?"
"I don't think so."
"Thought not. Right." She turned, and marched back inside. "Hey!" she yelled. "Doctor! How about you try again, and this time put us down in the right century, okay?"
He looked up and started to speak, but Rory was distracted by a voice close by. "Hello," he said; "who's there?" He could just make out a vaguely human shape in the fog, distorting like a reflection on the surface of a river. There was a muffled reply; he still couldn't make out the words. "Sorry, didn't quite catch that?" Rory took a step, two more, and the figure started to move away. "Wait!" he called; but then he heard Amy shouting behind him. He turned back towards the TARDIS, its exterior blurred almost to invisibility but with welcoming light coming from within.
The Doctor was calling to him, urgently, telling him to get back inside. Rory started to run, only to come up short against the TARDIS doors as they swung shut in his face.
"Okaay," he called, "Not very funny. Amy? Doctor? Let me in?"
As he fumbled for his key, he heard the all-too-familiar sound of the ship starting to dematerialise. "No! No, wait for me!" He hammered on the door until it was no longer a door but one more swirl in the fog. He let his arms drop to his sides, his fists unclench.
"Oh, perfect," he said.
* * *
The Doctor looked up as Amy stormed back into the TARDIS. He hadn't been listening, but now that his trouble detectors were sending his brain urgent signals he reran her words in his head. "Nonsense," he said, "it's definitely 2013."
"Yeah? Well that fog out there says otherwise, buster. Unless you know something we don't."
"Actually," he replied, "there's an awful lot I know that you don't. For instance, I bet you didn't know that on the planet Carallashda IV, the Republic of Goronthon once spent a whole nine months in eclipse because of a weather control experiment that went wrong. And five years after that-"
"Doctor..."
The tone in Amy's voice cut him off mid-speech. A shame, really, as he had quite a few choice anecdotes lined up. He swung the main display monitor round to show her.
"There you are. See? 2013."
She looked at the figures and deflated. "Oh." The Doctor was just starting to feel a little smug when she frowned again. "Hold on, this says July 2013."
"Does it?" The Doctor leaned sideways so he could see the screen as well. His mouth twisted for a moment as he took it in. "Well, January, July, it's still the right year. I'm sure it doesn't make that much difference?" There was something about the date that was troubling him, but he couldn't quite catch the thought.
Amy had put her hands on her hips - never a good sign. She was rolling her eyes, too. "Noo, no difference at all. I'm sure we'll find plenty of January Sale bargains on flippin' American Independence Day!" The last four words were shouted.
Independence Day. That was what Ace had said last year, all those lives ago. And now it was the fourth of July, 2013. As if on cue, the cloister bell began to ring. "No, no, no!" He turned his face towards the door; Rory wasn't visible. "Rory! We have to leave, now!"
"Doctor...?" Amy's voice was full of concern as she put a hand on his arm, but she snatched it away again almost immediately and sprinted for the doors, now swinging shut. A shadowy shape was visible through the crack as they slammed together. "Rory!"
The time rotor began its slow motion once more as the noise of the great engines filled the space inside the console room. Amy turned a despairing face to the Doctor; he had no words for her.
Soon - sooner than either of them expected - the sound ceased. Amy spoke at last, her voice controlled, only the slightest tremor hinting at the desperation he knew she must be feeling. "You've got to take me back, Doctor. Now. I am not leaving him behind again."
The Doctor was checking the readouts. "I know. But according to this, we haven't moved. We're occupying the same space-time coordinates we left a few moments ago."
"Then get these doors open."
"Amy, I think there's something more going on..."
"Open these doors now, Doctor!"
He sighed, and pushed the switch. Amy looked out across a gleaming cityscape on a bright summer's day. The roof of Buckingham Palace was just visible between two smooth, tall spires; flying cars streamed across the pale blue sky.
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